Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

19: when blood is thicker than water

Elliot and I sat in in a corner table of 'Sweet Bakes', wearing two baseball caps he pulled out of his bag.

For the next thirty minutes or so, I sat sipping my caramel macchiato and slowly ate forkfuls of red velvet cake, while he sat sipping his long black coffee, taking care to eat the parts of the cake without the cream.

It was exactly thirty two minutes before the crowd in the cafe thinned and we could find an opportunity to talk to her.

For the thirty two minutes, I sat reading the news on my phone, while he, too, scrolled through his phone. Hardly a word passed between us.

The cafe was about half the size of a classroom at Valley Oak and had only five to six tables, but bustled with customers who queued for its cakes and breads.

Its warm manila painted walls, wooden tables, the pastel tones of its cutlery, utensils and menu, and the slow jazz music, created a homely, summer atmosphere.

"It's time." Elliot, glancing around at the almost empty cafe, lifted his baseball cap from his head. "That's her," he muttered under his breath.

I looked at the woman at the counter, with long straight hair pulled into a low ponytail, wearing a pastel blue apron over her jeans and sweater.

There was a smile playing on her lips, as she talked on the phone, tidying her counter. It was the smile of a woman who was happy.

We waited for her to hang up, and went up to the counter.

She was a woman in her mid-thirties, a woman with soft features and a smile that matched the warmth of her bakery.

"Would you like to make the payment?" she asked, smiling.

"Mrs. Romano." I put down the cash payment on the counter and spoke first, removing my cap. "My name is Clare. Clare Horan. And this is Elliot Lockwood."

As a light switch had suddenly been flipped off, the smile vanished from her face. Hardened cold, it looked like someone else's. "Please. Leave."

It was a plea.

I wet my lips. "Mrs. Romano."

"I have nothing to tell you." Mechanically, Nicole put away the money in the pocket of her apron.

I had hardly expected a welcome hug. But for there to be such a wall, such an immovably tall wall between us. She was the first and most important step.

"Please, Mrs. Romano. Just give us five minutes."

"Please." When she raised her face towards us, it was contorted into a picture of anguish- such anguish that I couldn't say anything else.

The face of the woman smiling and chatting with customers, and the face of the woman before us right now- they were almost that of two different people.

"I want- to live- in peace. That is all I want, and I don't think I'm asking for too much. Please- leave, now."

Not meeting our eyes, Nicole Grady yanked off the apron, and turned her back to us. As she was about to head towards the kitchen, Elliot, who'd been quiet all along, suddenly doubled over.

With a sharp hiss of breath through gritted teeth, he bent over, and fell on one knee, his hand gripping the counter.

A crease formed on Dr. Maloney's otherwise smooth forehead. "You better have a damn proper plan for making sure the boy stays alive and in one piece before he is pulled out of that house."

"Elliot." My stomach in a knot, a cold beat of my pulse in my mouth, I bent, looking at his face.

A anguished gasp of pain escaped his lips, as he crumpled once more, this time collapsing completely on the floor on both knees.